"I found the diary beneath the floorboard-bound in worn leather, smelling faintly of sandalwood and smoke.
The first page read: 'This is where I pour the things I cannot say aloud.'
And as I read, I realized something terrifying and exquisite.
Whoever wrote this... had been watching me."
His name was Elias.
And the first time we kissed, it wasn't gentle. It was a confession neither of us had the courage to speak out loud.
A hunger wrapped in silk. A storm dressed in soft hands and trembling breath.
And it changed everything I thought I knew about desire."